


A Heart Song.

by asailoratheart



Category: Maksyl-Fandom
Genre: Dual POV, F/M, Maksyl, Songfic, Wow this made me emotional
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 14:48:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1748435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asailoratheart/pseuds/asailoratheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's something that cannot be explained...and yet, doesn't need to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Heart Song.

**Author's Note:**

> I was planning on taking some time away from writing...
> 
> And then was given this prompt by morsly on Tumblr: "...I would love to see something about them with Clair de Lune." The rest was history. Probably my favorite thing I've ever written.
> 
> Enjoy.

He’s always felt at peace when he listens to this song. The lilting notes, subtle pauses, crescendos…they have always felt like home, _perfection_. He plays it when he’s away from New York, missing family and the streets where he ran as a child. The steady notes feel like the only smooth constant in the hustle and bustle and harsh neon lights. He likes to imagine that the moon connects him with his home while he’s listening.

She loves listening to the song before bed, with eyes beginning to blur with sleep. It causes a relaxation to flow through her, making her feel weightless amongst the notes. The only time she comes close to being this centered and yet so adrift is when she is on the ice, carving a path with blades that turn slight movement into poetry. The song is old, but she thinks _‘that’s okay’_ and listens anyways, wrapped up in a quilt made by her grandmother. Completely at ease.

Through the years, the only constant has been that song, although they don’t know it. It has a way to calm her, to settle her nerves before competitions and events, the shyness retreating. For him, it helps to keep him humble…reminds him of his family, so far away, and yet, while listening to it, so close.

They’re paired for Dancing…and the connection is instantaneous. She is graceful, kind, and soft…a perfect match to every one of his hard edges. He is supportive and sure, something she’s only experienced with Charlie—a man who could be her brother, for how close they are. It becomes clear to her that _he_ is not her brother; _he_ is a _force_ , full of passion and intensity, _scary, exciting_.

As the weeks ebb and flow into each other and the bond between them grows, morphs, crystalizes into something so completely encompassing of both their spirits, they do not fight it. Acceptance and the willingness to fall headfirst is palpable—the knowledge of the other, where they are, what they’re doing so overwhelming and exciting—is something neither want to fight.

He listens to the song before practice one week _(A rumba? A tango? A salsa? Who cares.),_ realizing that when he listens he thinks of _her_. Can picture her so vividly in his mind, something clouding and yet clearing every sense he has, it should scare him. But no, he feels the peace that he feels when he thinks of _home._  

She listens to the song, in her shared condo, early one morning while her roommate is out and finds herself swaying, _wishing, wanting, yearning,_ for her partner. He makes her feel free, like she’s floating, nothing to bring her down…and yet he lifts her, not only in dances for judges with his body, but with his _soul_ —it has become her safe haven.

They laugh, a few years down the road, when he says he’s choreographed something for them _(‘Something special’ he says)_. The music is cued and as the notes start to filter in the soft air of morning, she smiles. It is the thing that fills up his _world_ so entirely, he can’t help but smile back at her, wrapping her in his arms.

 _You know it,_ He says.

 _For years,_ she replies.

And they dance, bodies rising and falling along the swells of the piano, the choreography coming easier to anything they’ve done before. It’s written in their very beings, two pieces…perfectly matched and in tune. They don’t realize the music has run out, to them it’s playing between them.

A heart song. Something that cannot be explained, and yet doesn’t need to be. 

Just like them.


End file.
